


Finding Eden

by CuriousxCrowley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic!Winchesters, I gave them a baby, M/M, kinda case fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousxCrowley/pseuds/CuriousxCrowley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't even a case they were meaning to take but life for the WInchester's has never gone as planned. Why would starting a family be any different?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd all mistakes are mine. Rating for future chapters. Slow build. I'm sorry.  
> Work underwent a name change in anticipation of this becoming a 'verse

“Poor girl, looked scared out of her mind half the time,” Corner Keller recounted sadly over the chilled body of Connie Norton before turning to lead Dean over to the table where the girls’ effects had been placed.

Connie had been new to town, had showed up one day not three months prior and was living in one of the cabins just outside of town. Kept to herself, didn’t seem interested in interacting with anyone. According to anyone who had seen her, which was everyone given the small size of the town, she seemed scared maybe a little crazy. Sam couldn’t help but agree with their assessment when he lifted the blue sheet and caught sight of the markings covering almost every inch of the girl from her shoulders to her ankles.

Her death hadn’t been their original case. They’d just finished with a small nest of vamp a few towns over when Sam had caught the description of a girl covered in ‘satanic’ symbols found in the vestibule of the town library over the scanner. Dean had agreed, reluctantly, that it was worth checking into before heading back to the bunker. The symbols weren’t actually satanic, but more people didn’t know the difference.

They were actually a collection of protection symbols from every major culture and religion, possibly with some minor ones thrown in. Obviously it hadn’t been enough to protect her from the 9mm bullet lodge in her spine. She had definitely been afraid of something if she had been willing to go to such great lengths to cover herself with the symbols. Some were tattoos, definitely predating her time in the town. Some were newer scars, symbols she’d actually cut into herself, maybe from the same time she had arrived. Others appeared to be hastily drawn in marker on her skin, probably a frantic last attempt to keep hidden from whatever she had thought was after her.

“Find anything?” Sam asked Dean as he recovered her, turning to find his brother standing solo in front of the evidence.

“Not much in her bag. Some cash and a few receipts from town. No phone anywhere but she was carrying around this.” Dean answered as he waved a small notebook at Sam, “How about you?”

“They’re protection symbols but the doc was pretty certain it was the slug that killed her.”

“So not our thing?” Dean asked hopefully.

“I don’t know some of these symbols are ancient and obscure, the only reason I recognize them is from the men of letters files,” Sam wasn’t ready to give up and hand it over to the police just yet.

“Alright well you get to poke around in this thing,” Dean said before tossing the little book at Sam, “I’ll go ask around and see if she had talked to anyone.”

After Dean left Sam took his time repacking everything into the evidence bags before waving thanks to the coroner on his way out. The motel was a short walk from the police station, which sat below the court house and above the morgue. Everything was a short walk in this town it appeared.

Once inside their motel room Sam began to look through the notebook. It appeared to be a journal, the first few pages were dated several months apart not mentioning anything too interesting. Flipping through the book he slowed when he noticed the dates getting closer together and then stopped all together when the word “coven” jumped out at him from the page.

_Told Joel I wanted out. Told him I didn’t want our baby raised with these maniacs._   
_He told me the coven was our family, the baby’s family. They scare me. I don’t want_   
_to be here. I think I need to leave with or without Joel. I’m afraid._

Sam couldn’t help but sigh. The girl was barely an adult, probably couldn’t even legally drink and she was involved with a coven.

The more he read the more twisted his stomach became. She had left, without the help of Joel and seemed increasingly scared with each passing entry. She mentioned spells here and there, more attempts at protection and warding than anything else. She didn’t talk much more about the baby and Sam wondered if she had left it with the coven when she left.

Well he did until he came across a page dated about four months back. The page was mostly blank save for a thin bloody smear across the page and the word ‘labor’ written before it.

His stomach dropped as he flipped the page.

_She was born Thursday around midnight. She’s small and doesn’t cry much but  
she seems healthy. She has Joel’s red hair._

Sam had his phone out and was calling Dean before he continued to flip the pages.

“I got nothing Sam, looks like she didn’t want to talk to anyone.” Dean answered after a couple rings.

“Did anyone mention a baby?”

“Uh… no. Just said she came for supplies about once a week.”

“Dean, she had a baby about a month before she showed up in town.” Sam rushed as he skimmed the more recent entries.

 _Eden still sleeps most of the day. I don’t know if this is normal or not._  
_I’m afraid if I go to a doctor they’ll take her. We’re moving again I think I_  
 _saw Joel yesterday at the store._

“Oh shit,” Dean answered and Sam could hear the sounds of the impala’s door shutting.

 _The town is small. I’m too afraid to take her out. The cabin is warded so I have to leave_  
_her here when I go shopping for us. I’m afraid if I take her out Joel will find us again._  
 _I think he’s tracking her now. I don’t know._

“Dean we have to get to the cabin, it sounds like she was hiding the baby. And before you say it, this is definitely our kind of thing.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

It was less than five minutes and then another twenty before they found the small dirt road that lead up to the cabin Connie had been living in. During their drive Sam had read parts of the journal to Dean. As the dates got closer to the present the handwriting became more rushed and some of what was written didn’t make much sense, as if the girl was going insane with panic.  

Sam felt a sense of dread as he climbed out of the car. He couldn’t hear anything from inside the cabin but the door was locked and it took him less than a minute to pick it. Inside was a mess, but nothing to indicate that anyone had broken in. There were protection symbols, mirroring those on Connie’s body, spray painted on almost every surface.

Dean was clearing the kitchen when Sam opened the door to the bedroom. It was a fraction of a second before he was greeted with a soft cry, and Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before rushing into the room towards the sound.

There was a small box hidden from sight between the bed and the wall, a simple cardboard box but not an inch was left uncovered. Those symbols, _again_ , drawn in marker on all four walls of the box. Inside, lying on something that might have been part of a quilt once was a tiny baby. When Sam lifted her he couldn’t help but marvel at how she almost completely fit in his hand. Which, given that the baby was almost four months couldn’t have been a good thing. Her skin was pale right up to her neck which was blotched red, her face such a deep red it was purpled in some spots. The wisps of hair that adorned her head were such a fine shade of red they were rendered almost invisible against her angry skin. 

“Dean!” He called out as the baby resumed her wail. It was rough and weak, like she’d been crying for too long. He was trying to do the math, Connie had been found at six this morning by a librarian coming in which was almost twelve hours. Coroner had estimated the time of death around 10 the night before, twenty hours. It had probably been even longer.

“Yea-oh shit,” Dean was standing in the door way looking at them and like that he was gone again. Sam was vaguely aware of the sounds of the cupboards banging in the kitchen, he was aware however that the baby was soaked and shivering. To his right, on top of the only dresser in the room, were small stacks of baby essentials. An almost exclusively pink pile of clothes folded neatly, a newly opened pack of diapers, and a pile of folded receiving blankets. 

By the time Dean returned, triumphantly, with a bottle in hand, Sam had managed to change her. He snatched the bottle from Dean and after a few seconds of shushing and coaxing the baby began to drink. He sat carefully on the bed, afraid to disturb the finally quiet baby.

His chest actually ached for her, the only thing she had known in her short life was lying in a morgue across town. While it would never replace a mother, he knew that personally, Sam couldn’t help but hope that maybe Connie had family out there who would be comforted a little by having this breathtaking piece of their loved on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have prewritten but I am actively working on ch3

It was now nearly two in the morning and they still hadn’t left the cabin. Dean was sitting on the moth eaten couch watching Sam move about the room rifling through the papers. Normally he would have been helping but after her last bottle the baby, Eden as Connie had named her in the journal, had fallen asleep on his chest. Sam had basically forbade him from getting up and disturbing her. He would never admit it but he didn’t actually mind, it was peaceful having her asleep on him.

“There’s really nothing here,” Sam said as he laid down the papers he’d been reading.

“So all we got to go on is a dead witch, a journal, and a baby?” Dean answered trying to keep his voice soft.

Sam sat down next to him, slouching down so his head hit the back of the couch when he tipped it back, “Connie was afraid of the coven and left because of the baby. Now it looks like she’s been killed for that.”

“So what are we going to do?” Dean was gesturing to Eden and she stirred slightly at the movement.

“Well she doesn’t exist… not legally at least,” Sam answered turning his head to look at them “and Connie felt they were in danger. Maybe they were but I think we need to protect her at least until we find the coven and this Joel.”

“We’ve done it before,” Dean agreed remembering back to soulless Sam and Bobby John. “Which speaking of, you didn’t completely freak out this time, good job.”

Sam laughed tipping his head back and his eyes falling shut. “Amelia’s receptionist had a little boy. We baby sat a few times.”

They didn’t speak much of Texas or purgatory but sometimes they gave out information if it was needed. Dean managed to only feel a small surge of resentment at the mention of that time. He was almost past it after these years but when Sam said her name his stomach just always instinctually clenched. That was something that he was probably never going to get past.

“So we need sleep,” Dean said thoughtfully.

“I’m not putting her back in that box,” the force behind Sam’s voice startled Dean a little. He glanced over and while Sam’s eyes were still shut his jaw was tense. Dean didn’t blame him, it made him uneasy knowing she’d been laying in a box for almost an entire day by the time they had got there.

“You sleep for a few hours, I’ll hold her and then in the morning we’ll figure out what we’re doing.” Dean agreed. 

Sam was out a few minutes later, soft snores joining the soft sounds Eden was making on his own chest. Dean smiled to himself a he listened to them.

It was nice, almost comfortable, but with it came back that long buried desire Dean had given up on when he’d asked Cas to wipe Lisa and Ben’s memories. Dean knew Sam had given up on a life with kids after picking him over Amelia. It broke his heart a little when he’d seen how tender Sam had held Eden when he’d first found her, knowing he was the reason Sam wouldn’t one day hold a baby of his own.

That kind of life wasn’t for them though, no matter how badly either of them had ever wanted it, it just wasn’t how their lives worked. Firstly because all of the destinies that had apparently been laid out for them since birth, since before then even. Secondly because while others came and went, and while their stay was always longer with Sam, they belonged to each other and had since long before it was appropriate.

 He had originally planned on staying awake and watching over them, but he eventually drifted to sleep surrounded by the two bodies surrounding his. His dreams that night were filled with thoughts of the type of father Sam would be, or rather the type he would never get a chance to be.   


Dean woke with a start, his hand that had been supporting the baby, flying up to his chest. He looked around with a small panic before finding her. She and Sam were in the kitchen at the small table. She was tucked securely in Sam’s arm and Sam had a small bowl of cereal in front of him. Every few minutes he would prop the bottle using his chin and steal a spoonful. When Sam caught his eyes he flashed him a smiled, dimples and all.

The image of them made Dean’s heart stop for a moment.

“She started stirring about an hour ago and I figured you needed some sleep,” Sam supplied.

“Thanks,” Dean grumbled as he stood, he could now see a second bowl across from Sam and he couldn’t help but smile back. He watched them for a moment the images of the Sam from his dream flashing in his mind as he watched a fairly accurate reenactment play out in front of him. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind he sat and began eating.

They ate in relative quiet. Dean kept sneaking glances between his bowl and Sam. Every few looks Sam would catch him and smile before glancing back down at Eden who was most likely asleep again and was lazily sucking on the last of the bottle. After breakfast Sam handed her off to Dean before he went around collecting things into a duffle bag he’d found in the bedroom.

It was during this time that Sam’s phone had rang. Dean only half listened when his brother answered as the FBI agent he was impersonating. His focus instead was on the journal on the table and he couldn’t help staring at the blood stained page where Connie had marked that she was in labor.

“So her name isn’t Connie,” Sam’s voiced pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Elizabeth Stirling, actually. She was 20. Ran away from a group home at 15, was arrested for aggravated assault when she was 18 in Tulsa but skipped town when she was released on bail.” Sam explained as he played with his phone, he looked a little like someone had kicked his puppy.

“Does the little one have any family then?” Dean asked even though, going off of Sam’s look, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Elizabeth’s mom OD’d when she was nine, no father so to speak,” Sam confirmed grimly.

“Well little one, I guess you’re stuck with us for a little,” Dean spoke now to Eden who was quietly looking up at him. Her eyes were clear this morning and they were a startlingly crystal blue color, but he could already see the little flecks of green he assumed would one day color her entire iris.

It took them until they got to the Impala before they realized that neither of them had seen a car seat, and they had been over the cabin more than once. It was eventually decided that Sam would ride in the back and hold Eden and Dean would drive them to the nearest Walmart, the only place he’d been on Earth so far that he felt accurately compared to hell.  

“You know,” Dean began as he carefully maneuvered off the dirt road, “I held your ass in the back seat and you couldn’t have been much more than a year. No carseat needed.”

He heard Sam sigh, the same one he gave when trying to patiently explain to Dean that ketchup and tomatoes were not equivalent.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was proud of Dean, he’d made it through the entire Walmart trip without actively stabbing anyone. He knew mentally his brother was probably thinking of several ways to kill every person in the store, but Sam wasn’t picky and he took what he could get.

They’d gotten the car seat, Dean choosing because it was going to be in his baby. Then Sam had suggested more formula and Dean had insisted on extra clothes. Eventually they made it to the checkout, with a lot more. The cashier had oohed and ahhed over Eden before asking if it was their first. Sam had stepped in at that point because despite the fact that they were together… in some way, Dean always was miffed when people commented on it.

They were checked into a different motel now, they didn’t want to answer any questions about how they’d suddenly gotten a baby.

There was really nothing to give them a lead in Connie-Elizabeth’s journal, she never gave locations or talked about anyone other than Joel and Eden. Given the nature of her death though, he assumed who ever had killed her was around and if Elizabeth was right they would be looking for Eden. It made him uncomfortable, they rarely had absolutely nothing to go on with a case. It also bothered him that someone would be looking this violently, for lack of a better word, for a barely adult runaway and a baby.

Covens were a tricky thing, he knew that, but despite Dean’s deep loathing for witches most were benign. He wasn’t entirely sure this case was solely about magic, it seemed very domestic and most witches didn’t use a 9mm as a weapon. Given their past history with domestic disputes between witches it would still be too dangerous to hand over to the locals entirely, not without risking a few lives including Eden’s.

Sam wasn’t sure what they could do at this point other than sit, wait, and watch over the baby. Which despite everything Dean had been grumbling about didn’t seem to be too much of an off putting task. Actually Dean seemed to be enjoying that part of their job and Sam, well he wasn’t complaining about it.

Dean was currently pacing with Eden on the stretch of carpet in front of the bed humming, a song Sam had immediately recognized as ‘Hey Jude.’ The two of them were in their own world and Sam had no plans on interrupting them. It was beautiful and all he wanted to do was watch. The heater in the room was working, too well, so Dean was down to sweats and a simple white t-shirt. His bare feet were catching on the floor occasionally as he walk-shuffled back and forth. Eden was up on his chest, her ear positioned directly above Dean’s anti-possession tattoo.

“Enjoying the view?” Dean asked shooting him a smirk.

“I…” Sam wanted to tease back and say yes and pretend it was for one of the other million reasons he enjoyed watching Dean. Neither of them had brought up the fact that this baby had no family, her father probably being the direct reason her mother was dead, and of course she didn’t actually exist. To the best of their knowledge Elizabeth had given birth on her own in some cabin or motel, probably not too different than this one. “What are we going to do with her when we figure this out?”

Dean stilled now before gently lowering Eden into the questionable crib that the motel manager had dragged in for them. “We’ll figure it out… a hospital or something,” Dean answered when he finally turned to face Sam.

“So into the system then?” Sam didn’t know why he was even pushing it, Dean had given the only logical explanation.

“She’s little, she’ll be adopted fast,” Dean was now sitting on the edge of the bed on Sam’s side. Sam was about to speak, about to agree with Dean, when Dean interrupted “Sam I know what you’re thinking.”

Sam sighed, “I know and you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Dean grinned before leaning up to Sam, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Reaching out he caught Dean by the arms and pulled him closer, returning the kiss. Sam almost laughed when he inhaled and among the always familiar scents of Dean he caught the distinct smell of baby formula. Almost laughed, because as soon as his lips parted Dean’s tongue pressed between them effectively silencing him. Dean was trying to distract him; a technique he’d been using since Sam was barely fifteen.

“Dean,” Sam warned finally breaking himself away from the kiss.

“What?” Dean was trying to pull off his innocent look.

“Let’s just go to sleep?” Sam asked before pressing a slightly more innocent kiss to Dean’s lips, “I’ll get up with her first.” He offered.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Two days passed without any sign of anything even remotely out of the ordinary. The autopsy had revealed nothing they didn’t already know save for some traces of drugs in her system. The bullet was a dead end, too damaged by Elizabeth’s bones to really provide any evidence. Dean could tell the way the locals spoke that they were eager to sweep it under the rug, and that was exactly why Dean hated each and every one of them. They were already packing away the case, an unknown teenage drug addict wasn’t worth much in a town like this.

He wasn’t sure how long to hold out waiting for someone to come looking for Eden. He was worried about Sam’s attachment to the baby, not that he wasn’t fond of her but Sam was wrapped around her tiny fingers. He had come back more than once in the past few days to Sam holding her and telling her little stories that sounded like something straight out of a fairy tale book. He knew they would have to have a discussion about it, have to set a time frame as to when they believed it was safe to hand her off. Not that he didn’t have every intention of checking up on her frequently, after this the kid would always be in some part their responsibility. He also knew that Sam would probably dig his heals in about it.

It was late now almost 3 and he was still awake, Sam sleeping like the dead to his left. Eden was being unusually restless tonight, the previous nights she’d barely woken but tonight it seemed she was up almost every hour. It had been Dean’s turn to get up with Eden and she was back asleep in that sweet coma-like state she fell into after almost every bottle. Dean was willing himself to fall asleep, he always gave Sam a hard time about being an over thinker and yet he was guilty of the same.

This was exactly why he heard the sound of footsteps pausing outside their door.

Dean instinctually slid his hand under the pillow reaching for his gun, it probably was nothing but he couldn’t recall hearing anyone at this time of night since they’d gotten into town. He waited for the person to realize it wasn’t their room, but they didn’t move on. Instead he could clearly make out the sound of the tumblers moving in the lock.

Trying not to make much noise himself Dean kicked Sam and at the same time he pushed a hand over his brother’s mouth. Sam woke with a yell, muffled by his hand. Nodding at the door Dean pulled his hand back. Sam was now reaching under his own pillow.

The door opened slowly as if whoever it was, was trying not to wake them. At that exact moment Eden let out a loud cry and everything went south.

The door was thrown open and a man now bull rushed in straight for the crib. Sam, who had been closest to the door, jumped up and before he could even raise his gun he was thrown back into the night stand. Dean was there at the crib first, gun drawn and he barely got off his first shot when the gun more or less flew from his hand across the room. Dean lunged at the man and got halfway to him before he found himself being thrown backwards against the wall. It was enough time to cause the intruder to forget there were two men, and enough time for Sam to slam the shitty fake bronze lamp over the man’s head.

Eden was full wailing and Dean ignored the throb in the back of his head and rushed back to the crib. After finding she was simply startled by all the sounds he lifted her out carefully, hushing her as he did. Sam was busy cuffing the intruder with the cuffs they’d grown fond of from the bunker.

“Human then,” he gritted out in between the shushing sounds he was whispering to Eden.

“I’m guessing,” Sam agreed as he hauled the man across the floor towards the door, “We gotta get out of here. I’m betting the cops will be here shortly after that,” he added before pulling the door open.

Dean regretfully put Eden back in the crib as he began packing quickly, years of needing quick getaways driving his actions. His and Sam’s things thrown haphazardly into bags but he took special care with Eden’s things, making sure they were all packed neatly in the duffle that had been her mother’s. He was almost finished when Sam came back in and grunted “Trunk” at him as he shoved on his boots.

Dean let Sam drive and he stayed in the back seat next to Eden after he buckled her. She wasn’t crying now just breathing in the stuttered way people do after crying that hard. It broke Dean’s heart just a little every time he watched her chin quiver when she breathed in. He stroked her cheek gently and tried to direct Sam to the foreclosure he’d seen outside of town. He knew Sam knew where to go but he needed a reason to keep talking in the low soothing tone that seemed to calm Eden.

The house wasn’t much, a 2 story farm house wanna-be sitting off the highway. The exterior was a dead giveaway that it had been abandoned, ugly green asbestos siding that was falling off in places. Sam pulled the impala around back to hide them from the road.

“She okay?” Sam asked looking back as he shut the engine off.

“Almost asleep again.”

“So are we questioning him?” Sam asked jerking his head towards the trunk.

“Oh I’m gunna question him alright. You take her to the second floor,” Dean said in a tone that probably didn’t seem particularly threatening but he was trying to keep Eden drifting back towards sleep.

They didn’t move for a few minutes, just sat in the car. Dean was still stroking Eden’s cheek and he could feel Sam watching him but neither of them said anything. After her eyes had slid shut and remained that way for a minute they began moving again. Sam went up to the house to open the door and Dean lifted the baby out. He passed her off to Sam along with her bag and Sam disappeared into the house.

There was a basement in the house and he drug their new guest down the stairs to it. He couldn’t find any chairs to tie him to so he settled for cuffing him around a foundation beam and tying his legs together. He added a strip of duct tape across his mouth for good measure, he didn’t need the asshole screaming and waking the baby again.

With his flashlight Dean studied the lump in front of him. He quickly decided this wasn’t Joel. Other than the fact there was no way this guy could convince a pretty teen to be with him the features weren’t right. The man was short, maybe 5’5 at the most, and his hair was a dull brown. He remembered the journal saying Eden had hair like her father, so this sorry sack was definitely not her father which made things slightly more confusing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me banging out 3 chapters in one day is unheard of so don't get your hopes up too much for the future!

There was really no good place for Sam to just set Eden down so he settled for holding her on his lap. They were tucked away on the second floor. Dean had come up just before dawn to tell him their guest had woken and that he intended on questioning him. Sam would have normally pushed to be in the room with them but someone needed to be with Eden and she certainly didn’t need to be around that. So he stayed on the second floor waiting for Dean.

He had smiled when he’d seen bottled water packed in Eden’s bag, tucked in next to her formula and her bottles. Despite how rash Dean could behave he still had a talent for guessing what they would need and making sure they had it. Dean had been that way since they were kids, always anticipating what Sam would need and trying his hardest to give it to him. He could remember Dean sneaking him stolen candy bars on a few of their drives across country when Dad had forgotten to stop for lunch. He wasn’t surprised that Dean was able to do it for Eden, he’d seen him react similarly to any of the kids they’d crossed paths with on a hunt.

Sam had never had the same natural ability with kids but he did his best and he always got too attached according to Dean. He knew Eden was no different, at least in that he was probably already too attached. He liked the way she curled on them after bottles, liked the way she already turned her head to find Dean’s voice when Sam held her or the other way around. It unnerved him that she didn’t cry unless she was hungry, it spoke to the condition of the first few months of her life. Elizabeth had taken care of her physically, had kept her alive but the girl was no more than a kid herself and a scared one at that. She tried but didn’t have the tools to know how to care for her baby and going off of what little he knew about her background she hadn’t exactly had the best mother herself.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice yelled up to him, probably from the stairs.

Sam stood and walked to the railing, peering down at his brother, “Yeah?”

“James Bond is ready to talk,” Dean said. Sam could see his hands were stained red and his knuckles looked busted open.

He contemplated putting Eden down but decided instead to take her with, grabbing one of her blankets from the bag. As he made his way to the basement he put it over her. He knew it was stupid and there was almost no way she would be affected by anything she saw but he still felt like he needed to shield her from it.

The man’s face was one giant bruise, there were strategic cuts on his torso, and what looked like a puncture wound in his right thigh. Sam couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for him though, instead holding onto Eden just a little tighter.

“So you’re going to tell us exactly what you were doing last night,” Dean said as he nonchalantly flipped his knife.

“I tracked the baby to the motel, I was coming to take it back to its father,” the man grunted out and Sam could hear the broken rib.

“And the girl?” Dean asked.

“She got out of hand, it was her filthy gun I didn’t want to shoot her.” The man appeared to be angling for sympathy maybe. “That baby didn’t belong to her. She belongs with the rest of the family.”

“Didn’t belong- oh for crying out loud that was her daughter before you jammed a bullet in her spine!” Dean was agitated.

“Family?” Sam interjected.

“Yes the coven, the one the girl ran from. She stole the child from us and she needed to be returned. Once the baby was out the mother didn’t matter so much, only the child.”

“Where is this coven?” Dean asked as he approached the man.

“No.” The man spat at Dean.

Dean quickly drove the tip of his blade into the undamaged thigh. Sam turned on instinct shielding Eden from them as the man shrieked. He watched them over his shoulder.

“So I’m going to ask again,” Dean growled one hand still on the knife hilt. “Where,” _twist_ , “is” _twist_ “the” _twist_ “coven” the finally twist brought the knife a full turn causing the man to yell out again.

“Fine. Stop!” The man yelled his eyes squeezed tight, “Wichita!”

Dean blinked, “I’m sorry was that a joke?” he asked grabbing for his knife.

“No, no really. The coven is older than the city itself, they date back to when it was nothing more than a trading post. I swear.”

Dean was looking over at him now, one eyebrow quirked asking ‘ _do you believe him_.’ Sam nodded before turning back to the stairs and starting up.

He was barely on the second floor when he heard the gunshot, he flinched a little but again just couldn’t bring himself to feel remorseful.

The back door opened and slammed shut and from the window in the back bedroom he watched Dean stalk to the impala and open the trunk. Sam stood at the window with Eden watching as Dean cleaned his hands off with the jug of water they kept. After sometime Dean pulled off his jacket and turned to make his way back into the house.

“Let me see her,” He ground out and didn’t wait for a response from Sam, simply plucking her from his arms. Dean sat down against the wall cradling Eden against his chest with his now clean hands and he buried his face in the top of her head. Eden squirmed a bit in protest against the tight grip and Sam bit back a warning of careful.

This was another one of Dean’s coping mechanisms, one that had taken Sam years to recognize. Dean had always sought out warm bodies, flesh and blood humans, after making kills. It was worse the more human the monster appeared. Originally it had taken shape in the form of Dean clutching Sam as a child, the two of them in the same bed. Then it had been waitresses and women from bars when he’d gone to Stanford and for a while after he returned. It had come full circle again in which Dean would grip Sam tightly and bury his face in his hair or his neck.

It wasn’t about sex, after the first monster Dean had killed on a hunt he’d held Sam so tight he had had bruises on his arms for a week. Sure with the random women and Sam sex often came into play but it was different than every other time. Dean would lay him out and draw things out sweet and slow until Sam was a babbling mess under him. He would whisper sweet things and always handle him with gentle touches. It was like Dean was reminding himself that he was capable of not always being a killer.

Sam gave it time, waited until Dean uncurled himself from around the baby. Waited for him to shift her back onto his legs instead of clutching her desperately against him. After that, then Sam spoke.

“So Wichita?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fulfills that Explicit rating I gave it...

Over the salt and burn of the dead witch they’d discussed going to Wichita. Dean was eager to get a chance at knocking down an entire coven, or at least knocking off a few more witches. Sam on the other hand had started to realize bringing Eden with would make things a little difficult and had suggested the bunker.

In the end Sam’s logic had won out. Wichita was only about three hours from the bunker anyway, they could easily get to the city.

Sam went out shortly after they arrive, getting pizza ‘and a few other things.’ Which had turned out to be more god damn baby stuff.

“Dean, we’re not going to do this all in one night and she needs somewhere to sleep!”

More Sam logic that Dean couldn’t exactly argue with. Instead he just sighed and insisted the thing (what the hell was a pack and play?) go up in Sam’s room. Not that it was often used, Dean’s bed was a little bigger and a lot more comfortable. Apparently Sam had anticipated something similar because the next item he produced was a small baby monitor.

“We won’t be able to hear her through the walls.”

Dean had swallowed down the urge to remind Sam that when this was all done they were surrendering her to the proper people and they would just be left with a ton of crap. Sam wasn’t exactly being irrational, actually everything he said made sense, but Dean felt he had to remind Sam that she wasn’t permanent. Okay maybe the reminder was also for himself.

Everything was very… domestic. Very comfortable.

While they ate they played pass the baby. Then Dean had taken care of the dishes while Sam fed Eden. After the sink was clear they’d decided Eden needed a bath, Sam had apparently gotten baby soap too. Eden had decided she hated the water and screamed so hard her entire body turned a tomato red. After reassuring Sam for the seventh time that the water wasn’t too hot Dean had ended up kicking him out and doing it by himself. She was small enough, _too small_ Dean noted, that she was easily held by one arm. Sam had reappeared as soon as the water had turned off armed with a towel and took her off to his room to change her.

By the time she was asleep Dean was tired, not the bone deep ache of a hunt exhausted but the fuzzy headed ‘I’ve been moving all day’ tired. Of course it wasn’t even nine thirty and despite the fact that Sam looked just as worn-out, Dean refused to throw in the towel for the night… at least not so obviously. Instead he’d kissed him in the hall and had lead him to the bedroom.

Sam tasted like the tea he’d had with dinner, something distinctly mint. That was home, on the road and in motels he tasted like coffee. Dean would never admit to it but the mint made him unexplainably happy. Sam was kissing slow and lazy, there wasn’t a rush which was so rare for them at least in the past. They were still getting used to actually having the time to enjoy things, that not every time had to be frantic and hasty.

Sam was gorgeous without a shirt and Dean never wasted anytime getting it off of him, even if things never went past kissing he preferred to do it with Sam shirtless. Sam let out a little gasp anytime Dean’s fingers made contact with a nipple when he smoothed his hand down the expanse of skin and he couldn’t help but pull on them into his mouth. Teasing with his teeth and rolling his tongue over it. Soft, shameless whimpers poured from Sam’s mouth as he did- pleasure and drowsiness breaking down his filter quickly.

Dean liked Sam without filters, this was a Sam only he got to see and that always managed to awaken something primal in him. He liked the way Sam involuntarily rolled his hips towards him when he began trailing his tongue down his chest. Down between his abs, down towards his belly button where he stopped for a moment to press his tongue in. That made Sam chuckle and grab at the back of his head, not pushing or pulling just holding him.

He popped the button on the jeans and the zipper slid down halfway by itself as it strained against Sam’s hard cock. The loose jeans were easily shimmied off of his brother’s slender hips and discarded on the floor along with the plain almost threadbare boxers. Naked Sam was a fucking Adonis, miles of muscle and tanned skin laid out beneath him. “Jesus fuck,” Sam gasped out when Dean licked at the tip of his cock. Dean took him into his mouth, one hand kneading his thigh. Salt and soap and the distinct musky flavor of precome covered his taste buds as he worked his tongue expertly around the shaft. Sam was writhing, the hand on his head sliding up to clutch at Dean’s hair.

He could easily get Sam off like this, they’d done it so many times the ache in his jaw was a welcomed and familiar feeling. But today that wasn’t what he wanted, it had been over a week since they’d even had time to think about this. Dean wanted inside. So he took heed of the little vein beneath his tongue as it began to pulse and pulled back.

“Dean,” Sam groaned in protest looking down at him beneath heavy lids and lashes.

Dean smirked before setting to work removing the rest of his own clothing and locating the bottle of lube. He slicked his fingers and quickly pressed one digit into Sam. Sam hissed, he hated cold lube but at least his eyes were open again even if it was just so he could glare at Dean. The glare immediately slipped the second Dean pushed his finger all the way in, crooking just the slightest to press at the bundle of nerves. Soon a second finger joined the first, sliding and pressing before scissoring Sam open. Then a third, but this time a filthy litany was spilling from Sam’s lips so low and so fast Dean couldn’t make out much of it. Dean’s own cock was begging to be touched, neglected and weeping. He slid his fingers from Sam and used the remaining lube to jack himself a few times.

He moved back up Sam’s chest, one hand still holding his own cock pressing the head up against Sam’s entrance. Capturing Sam’s lips again beneath his own he pressed the tip in so leisurely it was painful. He liked to draw things out so slowly when he had the time that he was willing to punish himself with it. Sam was having none of it though, one of his mile long legs wrapping behind Dean trying to push him in further. He went with it and slid in easily to the hilt before sliding back out teasingly slow.

“Dean please-“ Sam panted against his lips.

He slid back in a little faster, but intentionally missing where he knew Sam wanted him most. When Sam swiveled his hips and clenched, just that extra bit more Dean suddenly forgot his teasing. Changing his angle just the slightest he was rewarded by a low moan from Sam, the younger man arching under him. Again and again he pressed into him and every time he cried out, fingernails digging in alongside Dean’s spine the other hand reaching between them for his cock. Sam came warm and sticky between them, clenching and rocking against Dean. Dean followed shortly after matching Sam’s new rhythm as he rode out his orgasm for as long as he could. After, he collapsed onto Sam and slipped out slowly.

He half considered just falling asleep and dealing with the mess in the morning but Sam apparently had other ideas and slid out from under him. When he returned from the bathroom it was with a wet rag and tossed it at Dean. He mumbled a thanks as he cleaning himself off before tossing it in the direction of the rest of his clothes. He was barely aware when Sam slid in next to him.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This literally took me over 4 hours to write. I haven't produced decent smut in 2 years, I tried and I'm sorry if it sucked!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So canon divergence/maybe a little AU going on here. Definitely canon divergence after 9x10. I'm not saying this is set right after that but the MoC didn't happen. If I mention things from episodes after that I apologize, just assume it happened similarly just... with whatever rules my universe has.

Sam woke up first, Dean was sleeping peacefully and after assuring Eden was still asleep, he had decided to start doing research.

The men of letters had so many files on witches and covens the boxes took up exactly three and a half shelves in their storage room, not to mention the countless books in the library. Sam figured there should be something on a coven dating back to at least the 1850’s, especially one so geographically close.

He wasn’t wrong, there were three boxes of files on a coven that had apparently had a hand in the settling of Wichita. If what their dead friend had been saying was true, this had to be the one they were looking for. Unfortunately, all the information, just like all the other files in the building, stopped just before the mid-fifties. But at least there was some information for him to look over.

It appeared to be a basic coven, noted to have been founded in the early 1840s by Rachele Cavallo and her husband Peter. The two acted as high priest and priestess until the 1880s when they handed down the rolls to their daughter and her own husband. They didn’t attract much notice from the Men of Letters and on the surface appeared to be a relatively benevolent coven, only a handful of witches produced were marked as particularly dangerous. Sam wasn’t sure if things had taken a darker turn since the fifties or if this was another singular bad seed. So after two hours of reading he didn’t have much more information on the subject, not enough to feel comfortable about confronting them.

Dean still wasn’t up it seemed and he crept back down to the room, planning to slide back in for as long as he could. He passed the door to his room and noticed it was cracked open, Sam tried to tramp down the panic that hit him when he peered in and found it empty. It was highly unlikely anyone had gotten in with the wards and of course because Sam would have seen anyone come through the door.

“Dean?” He called out making his way to their currently shared room.

Dean was still on the bed still bare chested but having slid on boxers during the night when he’d gone to take care of the baby. He was clearly awake though and Eden was laying on the vacant side of the bed. Dean’s hand was hovering a few inches above her chest and he was wiggling his fingers at her, whispering things too soft for Sam to hear. Eden was doing her best, trying to catch his hand her arms jerkily moving as she tried to grasp at the fingers. Suddenly she let out a sound that was unmistakably a giggle, _probably her first_ Sam mused.

Dean looked over at Sam flashing him the shit-eating grin that clearly said ‘I am a god.’

“Oh so I do all the work and you lay around playing with the baby?” Sam teased.

“Not my fault she likes me better,” Dean was still grinning.

Sam quirked his brow at the statement before crossing the room and kneeling next to the bed, “Edie,” he called softly. As he expected Eden turned her head to look for the sound. He also noticed the smile slip off Dean’s face but he chose to ignore it, just as quickly the smile reemerged but maybe not so bright this time.

“That’s cheating,” Dean griped at him.

“Nah, she just likes me best.”

They eventually talked about what Sam had found, their best bet now was to actually go and investigate, but they couldn’t take Eden with. The bunker was still the safest place for her and they needed both of them able to function during a fight if one were to happen. Cas was their best option in terms of a supernatural babysitter. Sam was a little leery but Dean had assured him that Cas had successfully babysat in the past even keeping the baby alive during an attack by another crazy angel. Sam wasn’t actually sure if that made him feel better but he figured if Dean was willing to leave Eden with the angel he would have to trust his judgement.

Cas was easily reached on his phone and after a fairly brief conversation with Dean he agreed to make his way to the bunker.

He showed up almost six hours later, driving the gold ‘pimp mobile’ that the angel was apparently fond of.

“How exactly did you come across an infant?” Cas asked, barely in the door. Dean explained the story to him. When he mentioned the conditions in which they found her he reached out absentmindedly and rubbed her hand, Sam smiled at that.

“So we’re protecting her until we get this all sorted.” Dean finished with a pointed glance over at Sam.

Sam wanted to yell at Dean that he knew that, that he could stop being such a dick about it and reminding him every second. He didn’t though, it wouldn’t solve anything and it wouldn’t make him or Dean feel any better about the situation. “But we can’t bring her with us to sort it out and we were hoping that maybe you would be able to…” Sam trailed off.

“Babysit?” Cas finished for him.

“Yeah, I mean you did a good job with that other baby and this time it’s in the bunker, no angel surprises here,” Dean was obviously trying to sell the idea.

“I’m not sure if barely keeping her alive was a ‘good job’ Dean,” Cas said and Sam bit his lip a little at that.

“Cas that was because of a psycho angel. This is probably the safest place for this,” Dean pushed.

Sam could see the second Cas relented and a stiff nod followed shortly after, “Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my chapters are short. I generally aim for 1000+ but I'm just not hitting it with these and I can't force it without letting it sound forced and merging chapters is a strange task.


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken Sam two hours to give Cas instructions on how to keep Eden alive while they were gone. Dean had tried to hurry him out but that only seemed to make Sam more irritated so in the end Dean had just sat back and waited until he’d run out of instructions. The angel had been extremely patient, actually taking notes on what Sam was saying. When they finally had left Cas had followed them to the impala with Eden and had made her tiny hand wave at them as they drove off. Dean had laughed at that.

It had taken closer to two hours than three to get to the city, speed limits were always more like guidelines than actual rules. They’d found a motel, the seedy pay by the hour kind and no sooner were they throwing their duffle bags on the bed than Sam had his phone back out and was calling Cas. Dean had definitely given him a hard time about that, but to be honest he breathed a little easier knowing they had both survived the first two hours.

Sam had pulled up all the occult shops in the city, figuring if a coven was operating one of these shops had to be supplying them with things. They were going to split up and question the shop owners, Dean wasn’t too thrilled about that. He wasn’t a fan of questioning people and occult shops seemed to be exclusively run by people a few fries short of a happy meal. They had decided to go the FBI route, at least then Dean could wave around his gun at a few of the hippies. That always made him feel better.

The first shop Dean stopped at the girl behind the counter had been barely nineteen and reeked of marijuana, the second shop wasn’t much better except this time it was an obese man wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt. It wasn’t until the fourth shop that he got the reaction he was looking for.

There wasn’t actually a counter in this shop, the front was small with a few odds and ends displayed sparsely on bookshelves around the room. Myrrh scented incense burned in a bowl on one of them. The woman was sitting on a bench reading, not looking particularly part of the crowd he’d been seeing all day, designer jeans and a well-fitting blouse. The second Dean had entered, she regarded Dean with one perfectly plucked brow arched before announcing “We don’t sell drugs here Mister Fed.”

“Good, but that’s not why I’m here,” Dean said before brandishing his FBI badge flashing it in front of her in a practiced fashion, “Agent Walsh, I’m actually here to ask you a few questions regarding a murder.” That peaked her interest and she sat up, putting her book down on her lap.

“This,” Dean pulled Elizabeth’s autopsy photo from the otherwise empty folder he was carrying, “Is Elizabeth Stirling she was found dead in a library a few states away and we have reason to believe she was from around here.”

“Nope, don’t know her,” the woman’s answer came too fast and her voice pitched up several levels. She was a terrible liar.

“Are you sure? Had a few occult tattoos,” He pressed.

“I told you I’ve never seen her before,” she was irritated too quickly but it was also clear that Dean was going to get nowhere with this woman.

“Alright m’am, thank you for your time,” and with that he left.

It was almost three and he had arranged to meet Sam at the greasy pub next door to their motel. When he got there he could already see Sam sitting at one of the high table, shoulders slumped slightly forward from their normal resting place. Dean didn’t even have to ask he knew all of Sam’s shops had been a bust just from that small change in posture.

Sam confirmed it with a “All bust” when he sat across from him.

“I actually think I got something,” Dean said before pointing to the name on his list, “Nice clothes for a hippy and she got real weird when I showed her Elizabeth’s photo, wouldn’t admit to knowing her though.”

“So what are you thinking? A little late night B&E?” Sam asked before taking a pull from the half drank beer he had before him.

 Dean nodded “she probably keeps records; we might be able to recognize a name or hell just get some addresses to track down.”

“Our best lead at this point. I called Cas-“

“Of course you did.”

That earned Dean a classic bitch face, “Anyway, I called Cas and he said it was an uneventful afternoon.”

“Sam he’s not going to hurt her, they’re fine you need to relax.”

“I know, Cas just doesn’t get…’

“Sam, they are fine,” Dean interrupted again, “You seriously need to chill dude, okay?”

“Fine,” Sam huffed as he finished his beer.

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his brother, “And I know exactly how to pass the time until we go tonight.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up, “Oh yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know the computer voice reads Cas as "Cah" super annoying as I use it to help me proof read


	9. Chapter 9

Sam had barely gotten to their door before Dean was pressing him up against it biting at his lips, “I swear to god Sammy you need to learn to relax.” Years of practice got the door open without having to look at it or break the kiss. Dean was all teeth and rushed hands trying to shove his suit jacket off as the stumbled backwards into the sketchy motel room.

Sam licked into Dean’s mouth, teeth catching on his tongue pulling it in even further. Dean’s hands were on Sam’s belt pulling it open and off of him, his pants were quick to follow and then his shirt. Before Sam could even consider doing the same for Dean he found himself shoved naked onto his stomach. He looked over his shoulder to see Dean kneeling at the foot of the bed.

Starting at his ankles he began sucking kisses up Sam’s legs, hands following and massaging at the muscles. He paused stopping at the space behind his knees to run his tongue over the sensitive flesh causing Sam to roll his hips into the mattress seeking friction for his cock. He was less gentle with the skin of his thighs, biting and sucking where he wanted. There would surely be marks by the time he was done, sore little reminders of this moment.

One hand continued up kneading at Sam’s ass as Dean ran his tongue just over the crack, his hand joining his tongue there to spread him open. He shivered when he felt Dean’s hot breath ghost across his hole. His shiver became a tremor as Dean began licking over his entrance slowly, tongue driving in every few passes causing Sam to cry out and buck into the mattress beneath him. He didn’t care who heard, that was the point of this shitty place anyway. He rocked back into Dean’s tongue pulling his legs up slightly, tilting his hips to give him better access. Panting now as Dean’s skilled tongue began driving in and out of him.

“Fuck, Dean fuck,” Sam moaned as he reached down and wrapped one hand around himself.

He felt Dean chuckle against his skin as he pulled back and whispered “not yet,” against him.

Dean’s hands were on his waist urging him to turn over. When he was on his back Sam remembered that Dean was still fully dressed. He grabbed onto the tie and hauled the older man up into a kiss, the other hand snaking between them to free his brother’s straining erection. Releasing the tie after a moment Sam helped Dean shimmy the pants down.  When Dean had the pants off and leaned back up over him Sam wrapped his legs around him and flipped them over settling so Deans cock was nestled in between his cheeks. Dean rocked, precome and saliva slicking the way.

Sam’s fingers deftly undid the tie and then began undoing the buttons, Sam’s mouth kissing down the newly exposed flesh. He pulled his knees under him, lifting away from Dean one hand bracing on his chest as the other wrapped around the older man’s cock. He slowly began to sit back, positioning Dean at the spit slick entrance.

“Sam” Dean groaned as he realized where this was going, hands desperately grabbing his hips and trying to hold him up.

“I’m fine,” Sam insisted as he slowly lowered himself onto Dean’s cock. Dean threw his head back and began biting his lip, brows furrowed in concentration. His hips were twitching so slightly it was more of a tremor. There was not enough lube and not enough prep but the burn crashed up through Sam and once he took Dean in all the way he had to sit a moment to adjust. Slowly he began rocking not really lifting just shifting the angle inside of himself, enjoying the view as everyone of Dean’s muscles quived with the tension of holding back.

When Sam decided he was ready he began to fight dirty and leaned down whispering, “come on, big brother,” into Dean’s ear.

Dean snapped and began thrusting up into Sam, fingers biting bruises into his hips. There wasn’t much he could do now but sit up and hold on, one hand around his own cock trying to match the rhythm. The new position of his hips had Dean rubbing that spot inside of him with every thrust.

“Dean,” he panted out as he began to feel his orgasm curl up through gut, “Dean please.” He didn’t really know what he was asking for but Dean responded by snapping his hips up hard so that Sam was actually bouncing on his cock.

He came hard with a cry of “Dean” spurting across his chest and then a trail down to his belly button. A few short thrusts later and Dean spilled into him.

Sam collapsed on the bed next to his brother, one leg still thrown across Dean. They laid like that for a while, Sam dozing off.

Dean shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him “come on I’m not risking going to jail reeking of jizz and sweat.”

“You’d be a pretty prison bitch,” Sam laughed even though it earned him a swat on the leg as Dean stood.

After the shower they still had time to kill and Sam ignored the urge to call and check on Cas. Instead they use Sam’s laptop to pull up a movie on Netflix and they just laid on the bed watching it. It was a little after 10 when Dean finally reached across Sam and shut the computer, “Time to go, Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If my tense changed at all I'm sorry I tried to correct it. For some reason I completely changed my tense in this chapter and had to go back and correct.   
> Also another 3 chapters in 1 day. AND I even lost some of my writing time due to the new episode of SPN.


	10. Chapter 10

Breaking into the shop was a little easier than Dean could have hoped for. No gate, a shitty standard lock (which Sam picked in less than thirty seconds) and no security system inside. He would have considered it a trap except for the fact that he could feel an almost vibration on his skin, hair on his arms standing on end as if he was too close to a power line. There were wards on the place, just not ones directed at humans apparently.

Just as he had expected the front of the shop was literally that, a front. The real treasures were behind the bamboo beaded curtain hanging in the door directly behind where the woman had been sitting earlier. The back room ran the rest of the length of the building. Rows upon rows of metal storage shelves making aisles. The ones closest to the front were herbs and fairly common spell pieces but follow any given row back and things became less and less common, not to mention considerably more dangerous.

To his left he spotted a door which, since the building was sandwiched between two others, couldn’t lead outside. While he had been hoping for an office when he got the door open he was met with a set of descending concrete stairs. “Stairs over here,” He called out to Sam who was wandering some of the shelves.

“Check it out. I’ll uh stay up here and make sure nothing is super dangerous,” Sam answered. Dean knew better, his brother was intrigued and wanted to explore the curiosities on the shelves.

At the bottom of the stairs Dean was met with what seemed like a never ending hall, with dozens of doors lining either side. It was considerably colder and there was no other light than the one coming from his flashlight. None of the doors had windows or any indications of what were behind them, in fact they were completely bare except for a plain black number. 

He tried the knob on the first door and found it locked, the other three doors he tried were the same. As he stood in front of the fifth door he realized he could hear what sounded like the fluttering of wings behind it. Standing back, Dean eyed the door suspiciously before pulling out his lock pick. This lock took a little longer to open but after a few moments it clicked.

The room was empty save for a large antique mirror leaning up against the back wall. Upon first glance there wasn’t anything terribly impressive about the mirror, other than its size. The brass frame it sat in was tarnished and dirty but the glass of the mirror was completely clean. As he shined his light onto it Dean was certain that the surface began rippling. He stopped and watched the surface tremble for a little before settling back into calm. Raising the flash light again he flicked it across the mirror, the surface once again rippling away from the light. At this point he wasn’t even aware that he’d been walking towards the mirror until he was standing toe to toe with the frame.  He could hear the wings again, just as faint except now it sounded like they were coming from the other side of the glass. He waited, not really sure what he was expecting it was just a mirror, albeit a slightly unnerving one that seemed like it might be alive. Nothing happened. He was about to turn and leave but he caught a movement in his own reflection that he was sure he hadn’t made, a simple twitch of his hand even though both of his were still.

There were the wings again, closer now like the bird was right in front of him. Hesitantly he reached out a hand to touch it, not sure why he was still even in the room.

Just before the tips of his fingers met with the glass a loud crash from above broke him from his half trance.

Dean turned and bolted towards the stairs stopping for only a second to reclose the door to the mirror room.

“Sam!” He called out as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

No answer.

“Sammy!”

Again no reply.

The storage room was empty but as Dean raced down an aisle between the shelves he found the source of the sound. An entire shelf was knocked over stopped only by the exterior wall, the glass jars smashed to the ground. Dean screwed up his nose as he was assaulted by the scent of about fifty different herbs mixing from the shattered vials.

He ran back through the front, the bamboo beads now scattered along the floor having been ripped down from the door frame. The rest of the room was untouched and there was no Sam. The front door was flung wide open and without caring that he might be seen he sprinted out onto the sidewalk. No Sam.

“Son of a bitch,” He growled pulling out his phone. He hit Sam’s number which seemed to always be his most recent contact. The phone rang, and rang, and rang.

_This is Sam, I can’t answer the phone now plea-_

Dean hung up and tried again. Same result.

“Son of a bitch,” he was yelling now, causing a man a few blocks up to jump and look back at him before quickly continuing on his way.

One last phone call, Dean’s hands were shaking hard enough he almost dropped his phone. He turned as he waited through the ringing but a glow from inside the building caught his eye.

Sitting just beyond the open door, lying face down was Sam’s phone, cracked screen showing his missed calls.


	11. Chapter 11

When the world came back around Sam’s entire body thrummed with a dull ache. He tried to move but found resistance from every limb, he was tied to a chair. Every time he inhaled pain radiated through his chest, a few of his ribs must have been fractured either during or after the fight.

The fight. Something in his chest tightened, he must have gone down during the fight. Where was Dean? Just as important, where was he?

 His shallow breathing was hampered even more by the hood draped over his head, when he took account of that he came to the sickening realization he had been moved. With no idea how long he’d been unconscious he couldn’t even determine if he was still in the same building, or hell even in the same state.

“Dean,” it came out as nothing more than a wheeze in the dark.

“Not quiet,” A man answered.

The hood was ripped off, some of his hair with it and Sam winced. Both from the pain and also from the sudden blinding light shining directly into his eyes.

The room slid into focus around him. The lights were from work lamps set up in front of him, there were no windows and the walls were damp concrete. A basement probably. He couldn’t see much behind the lamps, but he could make out a small shadow in the corner that was moving slightly.

His view was blocked, then, by who he assumed was the man who had spoken. He was a thin man with extremely pale features, except for his eyes which were such a dark brown you could barely differentiate the iris from the pupil, but his hair was what drew Sam’s attention. It was longer even than Sam’s but the shade was a strawberry blond, the red sparkling where it caught the lights. He knew instantly who this was without ever having met him before.

“Joel,” he ground his teeth at the way he could feel the broken part of his ribs rub against each other while he spoke.

“Very good, so you know who I am!” Joel sounded delighted that Sam recognized him. “I of course know who you are, Winchester.” He spat out the last word as if it were a curse.

“So while I know my darling Lizzy is dead, Paul’s fault I know, and I know Paul is dead… which would be your doing I assume. I wonder exactly,” Joel was the very definition of grandstanding, arms flourishing for almost every word and when he paused he leaned down into Sam’s face. “Where is the baby?”

Sam resisted the urge to spit at or headbutt Joel, he was close enough to do both but with the way his hands and legs were bound it would do him no good so instead he asked, “What do you want with a baby?”

“I’m hurt!” Joel exclaimed as he stepped back clutching at his chest, “That baby is my child and after all, family _is_ everything!”

Sam snorted despite the fact it pained him greatly to do so, he had just met the man and could tell easily that it had nothing to do with the fact that Eden was family. “I don’t know where she is,” Sam bit out.

The moment Sam had said ‘she’ Joel’s face twisted. “Figures she’d give me a bitch, the girl was useless!” He turned back to Sam, once again crowding into his face, “But if you know that then you do know where _it_ is.”

“I don’t, we dropped it off at a hospital not far from the town,” Sam lied, “She could be anywhere by now.”

Joel regarded him for a moment trying to consider if it was the truth but once again he pulled back, “No, I think you’re lying. Paul tracked her to you I know that.”

“What would I even do with a baby? I’m a hunter you moron. After your little stooge found us we dropped her off,” With every word Sam felt dizzier, the ribs making it difficult to get in enough breath.

“Liar!” At the same time he yelled a sharp pain rain through Sam’s face as if he had been smacked, except Joel was still a few feet away. “You will tell me where it is, I will make sure of that.”

Sam shook his head. There was a phantom hand around his neck now, squeezing and a vein in Joel’s temple began bulging.

“Answer me,” he heard Joel hiss. He shook his head and the hand gripped tighter. The edges of his vision were beginning to fade.

“ANSWER ME!” Joel roared. Sam shook his head one more time and the world around him went black.

Sam came around again, head still foggy but this time the hood was still off and the room was dark. He wondered how long he’d been out this time, minutes or hours. His ribs still ached with every breath and now his throat was raw to go with it. He was so tired and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. Just as he was about to let his head drop he heard the soft sound of feet padding towards him.

“Are- are you alive?” The voice was definitely feminine and very young, she sounded a little scared.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“I was afraid he had killed you,” she spoke softly like she was fearful someone would hear.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Jeanie, you just met my brother.”

Sam inhaled sharply, forgetting his ribs for a moment, and then groaned in pain.

“No, no I’m not going to hurt you,” Jeanie assured and she put a hand on top of Sam’s, “But I don’t think I can get you out either. I tried to get Elizabeth out when she got pregnant but that didn’t end well.”

“Why would you,” Sam wheezed and tried to shift but to no avail, “why would you help?”

“I want out myself,” Jeanie said softly.

“My brother, find my brother, he’ll help you.” Sam gasped out, once again fighting with consciousness.

 


	12. Chapter 12

After finding Sam’s phone Dean had searched the building top to bottom, twice. Sam was without a doubt gone and he had no clue where he was. He turned his attention back to the search for records of some kind, he had a distinct impression that it wasn’t an accident that his brother would go missing after they strolled into town and started asking questions. It had taken an hour before he finally located a laptop, on a desk near the basement stairs covered in piles of papers. The papers looked like orders all scratched down in the same handwriting, no names on them just numbers in the upper left corner. His best bet was the laptop, so he took it and left the papers.

The drive back to the motel was made on autopilot, Sam’s phone sitting heavy in his pocket. There was a small part of him, irrational as it was, that was hoping when he got back Sam would be in their room with some crazy story as to what happened.

Instead the room was empty, bed still a mess from their earlier activities and it made his heart ache and the bile in his stomach rise to the back of his throat. He swallowed it down, he could panic later but now he had work to do.

The laptop was password protected, of course. Dean felt lost. Sure Frank had taught him tricks, Charlie as well but the computer stuff was always Sam’s job. Dean liked things he could kick down or bust open whereas Sam liked the finesse of lock picking or hacking.

After hour two he broke down and called Charlie and then it took another two hours for her to finally return his call. He explained everything as quick as he could and despite her offer of coming to him he demanded she walk him through it over the phone. Forty-five minutes later and he was staring at the desktop and thanking Charlie before hanging up.

Files for everyone and on everything and after a precursory poking around Dean could tell that the woman made a significant amount of money through her shop. The records were well kept and semi anonymous, all the buyers had been reduced to initials with addresses. Hoping that the initials were first name then last Dean found the list of J’s. Finding the right J was a little more difficult than he had planned but eventually he settled on the one with the most purchases, figuring if this Joel was buying for a coven he’d be buying bulk.

He had an address, well actually he had two. Some good old fashioned googling told him that one was a small warehouse, the other an actual residence.

Armed with half a dozen weapons and the directions to the warehouse Dean left the motel. His panic had been drowned out with a quiet rage that fueled him more than a good night’s rest could at this point. He would have to drive to the warehouse too far to go on foot and he wasn’t sure how quickly he’d need to get away and whether Sam would be in any condition to run.

As he passed through the lobby he paid very little consideration to the teenage girl standing by the door that tried to get his attention with a weak ‘Hey’. He ignored her and kept walking. He only became aware of her when he reached the Impala and noticed she had followed him. He turned and gave her his meanest glare, assuming she was a young trick. Instead of running off with his scowl she stepped forward to him and reached out for his arm.

“Dean?” She sounded hesitant and oh so young.

“Who’s asking?” He didn’t move but was contemplating the gun he had tucked into the back of his pants, it wouldn’t be the first time something evil ran around in a child’s body.

“Poughkeepsie,”

His world tilted so violently he was sure there had been an Earthquake. “Where is he?” He growled advancing on the girl.

“Please, he sent me to help you,” She was terrified, hands up in a weak gesture of self-protection.

“Where is he?” Dean repeated stopping so he was looming over the girl but not actually touching her.

Her hand flew up to a locket around her neck and suddenly like she remembered herself the girl stood up straight, no longer crouching away from him, “You won’t get in by yourself, you’ll be dead as soon as you get through the door.” It came out less than a threat and more of a warning.

Dean considered his options and looked around realizing some people had started staring and he took a step back and spoke low so only she could hear, “I won’t hurt you, just get in the car.”

The girl snorted disbelievingly, but regardless she climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala.

When Dean got in he looked over at her kicking himself for dismissing her as a hooker in the motel lobby. She was clean, her hair pulled back neatly and her clothes were far too nice and not at all revealing.

“I’m Jeanie. He’s alive. I think he might have some broken bones though it was hard to tell,” She said quietly not daring to look at him.

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles whited out.

“Katie came yesterday afternoon and told Joel the Winchester’s were asking around about Elizabeth so he had you guys followed.” She continued and started picking at her jeans.

“Yeah and how exactly do you know this?” He had meant to sound gruff and imposing but he just couldn’t, the girl wasn’t much more than fifteen.

“Joel’s my brother,” She finally looked up at him, “And this is all my fault.”

“Well you’re telling me I’m gunna die and you know where my brother is so you better spill, kid.”

Jeanie nodded, “I was supposed to become the high priestess of the coven just like our mother. My brother was jealous over it and when he was seventeen he made a deal with a demon to _enhance_ his powers so he could take it from her. I was only seven when he killed our parents, too young to do anything.”

Dean sighed, he felt sympathy for the girl, he really did but he had other things they needed to be focused on. “What exactly does this have to do with my brother?”

“The deal wasn’t for his own soul, he’s too selfish for that. Instead he made the most cliché deal possible. He would hand over the soul of his first child to the demon.” Jeanie answered looking over at him before continuing, “I knew it and I helped Elizabeth escape, he was drugging her tea making her think things. When she got pregnant I started switching it out and then I helped her out the night she left us.”

It took Dean a moment to process what he had heard, then everything began making sense. Eden was a sacrifice, that’s why he was searching so hard for her. Making a deal with a demon was a shitty choice, he had firsthand experience, but to actually be willing to sacrifice your own family to get what you wanted was disgusting.

“I don’t care about your brother, I care about mine and how to get him back.”

“He wants to trade, the baby for your brother,” Jeanie said solemnly.

“No, screw that. He doesn’t get the kid and he doesn’t get Sam I don’t make deals like that!” Dean laid his forehead on the steering wheel. The lines he was willing to cross for Sam were innumerable but he knew Sam would never forgive him if he even entertained the thought. 

Dean sat up abruptly and turned to look at Jeanie. “Actually, tell him I’ll make that deal. Tell him you went to find me; hell I don’t care if you say I dropped from the sky just tell him we’ll trade: his kid for my brother.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so much back story in my head this chapter took forever because not all of it is necessary and it was hard to decide what was needed and what wasn't.


	13. Chapter 13

“I’m going to ask you again. Where is the baby?”

Joel was back and clearly had a renewed sense of purpose, if the cuts that were now littering Sam’s body were any indication. He wasn’t even bothering to answer anymore, refusing seemed to upset the other man more than silence. The invisible knife slashed across his face this time, he could feel the blood bubbling on his cheek.

“Joel?” Sam turned his head towards the voice, he knew who it had to be Jeanie.

Joel’s face flushed red his veins popping out of his forehead, “Are you seriously interrupting me you little bitch?”

Sam could see Jeanie now as she came to stand a few feet away, she was purposefully not looking at him. “I found the other Winchester.”

Joel looked more furious if it was even possible, “What did you do that for? You stupid child, did he follow you?”

Jeanie took a step back from Joel and flinched, “No I made sure I wasn’t followed! I thought I could help you get the baby so I offered to make a trade with him.”

“And?”

“He’s willing to trade, his brother for the baby as long as he,” She tilted her head towards Sam but still wasn’t making eye contact, “is still alive.”

Joel looked pleased at this news and the tight feeling in Sam’s chest got worse. He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ believe Dean had willingly made that agreement. They had done a lot of stupid selfish things in the name of saving each other but this was a whole different beast. He knew that whatever had happened that Dean had a plan that didn’t involve handing Eden over to this psychopath.

“See Sam? Your brother and I aren’t so different,” Joel had turned back to him with a twisted grin.

“He wants to meet at the warehouse tonight, said he can get her there by nine.” Jeanie spoke again but Sam barely heard her.

When the time came to leave it was Jeanie who dropped the hood over his head whispering apologies to him. Joel and two other men, ones he recognized from the previous night at the shop, were in the room with them so he wasn’t able to ask about Dean. The hands gripping his arms were so tight they were bound to leave bruises, those were the least of his worries considering he was fairly certain one of his lungs had collapsed. It was hard to navigate the stairs but he didn’t have a choice, whenever he tripped he was half dragged, his shins hitting the edges of the stairs.

The car ride made him nauseous, they were taking so many turns he was certain that they were intentionally doing it to disorient him. He half contemplated trying to bolt. He could feel Jeanie to his left but the man on his right had what he assumed was a knife jabbing into his side. The message was clear, don’t try anything you won’t get far.

The car eventually stopped and he let them drag him inside, where they finally pulled off the hood. The warehouse was small, at least the section he was in. The part where they were standing was mostly empty a few boxes stood against the wall. There was a devil’s trap painted on the floor and around it, was a stain Sam would have bet money was blood. As he was looking around he heard the Impala’s engine just outside and one of the men left his side presumably to go out and meet Dean.

When he returned Dean was in tow, arms empty and his eyes immediately flickered to Sam looking him over.

“You come empty handed, Dean, I thought we had an agreement,” Joel was the first to speak and Sam smiled weakly at how clearly unimpressed Dean was.

“You see I’m not stupid, I get to see that he’s alive before I bring her in.”

“He’s alive. A little worse for the wear but nothing that won’t heal with time,” Joel said before grabbing Sam’s arm and leading him halfway to Dean, “So now that you see him, where is my baby?”

Dean reached into his pocket which caused everyone around Sam to jump a little in anticipation of a weapon but when he pulled out his cellphone instead they relaxed. Sam was trying to figure out what the plan was but his stomach dropped a little when his brother put the phone up to his ear and said, “Yeah you’re good come in.”

While everyone else turned to look at the door Sam just dropped his head, he wasn’t sure what Dean was doing. He was still certain Dean wouldn’t actually hand over the baby and Jeanie had said she tried to save Elizabeth and the baby. Why would she then just turn around and suggest putting the baby back in danger, he doubted she was capable of doing that. He didn’t bother to lift his head to see who entered, the footsteps were enough to let him know it wasn’t Cas.

“Hello, moose.”


	14. Chapter 14

Dean rolled his eyes at Crowley, sometimes he would pay just to have the demon shut the hell up and get on with business. He didn’t have the luxury of telling him that though, he needed him on his side right now. The fact that Crowley was even here was a sign of things going in his favor this time but he wasn’t about to tempt fate. Too many times had things been looking up for him and Sam only to have everything screwed up at the very end.

“Who are you?”  The man who had to be Joel asked looking Crowley over before turning his eyes back to Dean, “We had a deal, Winchester.”

“Yeah, I don’t really make deals asshat,” Dean threw back at him.

“No but I do and I’m very interested in yours,” Crowley spoke up as he stepped between Dean and Joel, “The first one… not the one between you and squirrel here.”

Joel considered Crowley for a moment, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Let’s just say I am very interested in what kind of deals you’ve been making,” Crowley drawled out.

“Wait how do you know about my deal?” Joel whipped around and eyed Jeanie. “What have you been doing you little bitch?” with a wave of his hand she flew into the closest wall.

“I haven’t-“ Jeanie cried out as she slid to the floor.

“You have been nothing but a thorn in my side since the day you were born. You’ve stolen everything from me!” he roared as he advanced towards her.

“Hey!” Dean shouted, “Hey” He attempted to run towards the siblings but his way was blocked immediately by the two other men.

“I won’t let you ruin this for me!” Joel screamed and then a sickening crunch resonated through the room. Dean’s vision colored a violent shade of red as he watched Jeanie’s body slump, her neck twisted sickeningly. The sound of Sam retching drew his murderous attention from Joel and he turned now to rush to his brother, way blocked once again. This time he swung at them.

“ENOUGH!” Crowley’s voice echoed through the entire building, everyone stopped moving including Dean.

Joel looked enraged that someone had the nerve to yell at him and he turned to Crowley, “What gives you the right to tell me what to do?”

Crowley’s face became red and he advanced on Joel, “I am your king you maggot. I am the king of hell and you serve me!” He was yelling so viciously spit was flying out of his mouth.

Joel paled significantly, “I-I-I didn’t know.”

Crowley seemed to calm again and he spoke slowly, “Who exactly did you make this baby deal with?”

“A demon,” Joel said dumbly and coward back as Crowley took another step toward him. “Uh she called herself Nisha. Said that it didn’t have to be my soul, just _a_ soul.”

“You are a twat,” Crowley sighed exasperatedly, “Of course it has to be your soul!” With a snap of his fingers Joel dropped to the ground blood pouring out of his ears, and when the two of his men rushed forward Crowley snapped again and they collapsed.

Dean didn’t have to go near them to know they were dead so instead he rushed to Sam, who by this point had collapsed to his knees. He grabbed his brothers face, being mindful of the large cut across his one cheek. “Hey, hey I got you.”

Sam leaned into him for a moment before trying to stand. Dean had to help haul his brother up and once Sam was standing he turned to look at Crowley.

“Why?” Sam asked before Dean could say anything, his attentions turned in the same direction as Dean.

“You don’t collect early and you don’t deal with anyone else’s soul,” Crowley explained patiently, “It looks bad. Now if you boys will excuse me I have a demon to torture.” And he was gone.

That was what Dean had been counting on. Sitting in the car with Jeanie he had remembered the demon Guy, who had been collecting souls early and how much that had pissed Crowley off. He assumed using someone else’s soul fell under the same category of disgust and had called him, cell phone because Crowley hated summoning, as soon as he got back to the motel.

Crowley was if nothing else, a business man. He could be reliable to hate anything that gave demon deals and even worse name than they already had. Everything was about image with the King of Hell and allowing people to sell off babies was probably the worst PR anyone could imagine.

Dean looked at Sam who was relying heavily on him for support, standing this close he could hear the wheeze from his chest every time he took a labored breath. “Alright let’s go, hospital before you collapse, carrying you isn’t exactly a treat.”

But Sam’s eyes were on Jeanie, “She was fifteen,” he whispered and Dean could tell it was more than his physical pain causing the hurt in his voice.

Dean hated it too, he should have told the girl to stay out of it- another dead body to pile on his conscious along with the others. He couldn’t dwell on it just now, not with the sickening sounds coming from Sam’s chest.

“I know. I didn’t know she was coming.” Dean said before putting his hand on the good side of Sam’s cheek and turning his head so he was facing him once again. “But we’ve gotta get you to a hospital.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I contemplated saving this until tomorrow since I'm not sure if I'll get any more done tonight but I figured I should post what i have.  
> So much introspection. Sorry not sorry.

Lying to the ER doctors comes more naturally to Sam than it should, but he’s been doing this his whole life in some way or another. He got jumped, that’s the official story. Everyone pretends not to notice the ligature marks around his wrists, he’s got matching ones on his ankles but nothing’s broken enough to warrant taking his pants off. They do, however, briefly escort Dean out of the room under the guise of “insurance questions” and ask Sam if he feels safe. Sam barely suppresses the snicker as he realizes they’re assuming this is some form of spousal abuse, Dean would have a complete conniption when he found out.

The doctors convince Sam, well they mostly needle Dean who begs him, to go for a CT scan after feeling the various lumps on his head. It’s clean but they surmise he does probably have a mild concussion. Then an x-ray reveals His left lung is collapsed and ribs 5 and 6 are fractured on that side. The doctors mention some fluid at the bottom of his lung and he allows them to hook him up for IV antibiotics for a short time.

Overall it’s really nothing serious and despite the urging of the ER doctor they allow him to be released the following morning. Dean had asserted he at least rest for a while under a doctor’s supervision and he didn’t crack any jokes when Sam insisted Cas send them a photo of Eden during they’re update phone call. He’d had all of these injuries far too many times to count, most of them they didn’t bother going to the ER for. Usually it was Dean who played doctor with him, well played actual doctor though he enjoyed the porn kind as well but he was always good to save that until Sam felt better.

He accepted the antibiotics and pain meds from the hospital though, pneumonia actually scared him quite a bit. He can still remember the time when he was eleven and Dean cracked his ribs on a hunt and developed pneumonia. His father had gone back out to finish the hunt before the symptoms set in. Sam remembered feeling completely helpless and the terror of watching Dean like that had known no match at that time. So as an adult anytime anyone mentioned pneumonia he paid attention and insisted all the directions be followed to the letter.

The hospital was a good distraction from the inevitable conversation they were going to have and Sam would have stayed in that medical limbo forever if it had been possible. But it wasn’t and they were now back in the Impala steering towards home, Dean glancing over every ten minutes to ask if Sam is okay. That’s the extent of the conversation for a while and Sam can tell that Dean doesn’t want to have this talk any more than he does. Which is exactly why he reaches over and turns down the music.

“So I guess we wrapped this up?” He turns to look out the window, staring at the passing scenery makes it easier for his voice to sound neutral.

“Yeah, I guess.” Dean agrees.

It’s silent for a while and Sam almost thinks Dean’s not going to actually talk with him about it. Except he hasn’t turned the music back up which means he’s either thinking or waiting for Sam to start the damn conversation. Sam refuses though and it’s his stubborn little brother streak that eventually wins out.

Dean sighs heavily. “I’ll take her.”

“Dean…” Sam wants to argue but they’ve been over this and Dean’s side is all logic and good reason.

“We agreed, if the past two days hasn’t been enough proof that it’s the right decision I don’t know what will be.” Dean says as if Sam had actually stated his argument. “I get it, she’s adorable and you love taking in lost things. But this is a baby Sam, an actual human being I doubt we could keep a goldfish alive.”

Sam nods slowly. Dean’s right, of course he is but something deep in Sam’s gut is screaming about how wrong it actually is. _Maybe it’s fate_ , the connected part of his mind tells him, _maybe the universe finally dropped something good in your lap and has no intention of pulling the rug out from under you_. As much as he wants to he can’t even bring himself to believe that lie. He tries to squash down all the feelings of wrong and focus on the rational side of the argument, after all in the past following his gut had rarely led them down the right path.

“I know.” He agrees after some time and Dean is the one to reach over and flip the volume back up.

The rest of the drive to the bunker is done in complete silence between them. Sam would think Dean was mad except the worried glances don’t cease, they increase in fact. So he kept his attention focused out his window like he used to do when they were kids and got into an argument in the car. He didn’t think it was actually Dean he was mad at. Maybe God? Maybe the universe?

Cas and Eden were waiting for them when they walk in, she was cradled in Cas’ arm and he was reading something to her in Latin. Sam doesn’t take the time to try to translate, he’s pretty sure there’s only a handful of books in their library suitable for a child but at least it’s in a different language.

Sam could feel Deans eyes boring into the back of his head when he took Eden from Cas and snuggles her. He ignored it and just nodded in agreement when Dean thanks Cas.

They carry on a conversation and Sam sits in one of the chairs with Eden, her wide eyes following the other men’s voices. Cas asks to stay for a little and Dean says of course with some bastardization of “mi casa es su casa” that causes the angel to tilt his head in confusion. Sam pays them no mind and spends the entire time, twenty minutes he knows because he’s looked at his phone at least five times, trying to be okay with what he knows is coming next. He is semi aware that it’s ridiculous that it’s been less than two weeks and he’s already so attached.

When Cas finally walks away back into the depths of the bunkers Dean turns and looks at him. Sam doesn’t dare meet his eyes because he knows he’ll see not only pity but the same longing he’s fighting down, and he knows if he sees that he won’t be able to stop himself from begging.


	16. Chapter 16

There were plenty of ways in which Dean was different from Sam and it this moment the biggest difference was the band aide effect. Dean knew his brother was partial to slowly peeling it off when he had the chance, to make sure the bleeding had truly stopped. Dean though, Dean yanked the damn thing off when he deemed it time.

Sam had agreed, multiple times, that their plan was right and any other way was stupid and dangerous. Yet he was still ghosting around the house clutching Eden to him like she was the band aide, hours after they got home.

Dean was trying to be patient, trying to give his brother some time to say goodbye but he needed it to be over. He wanted the time between this moment and when he could dump an entire bottle of whiskey into his gut to be short. In a few months this time and the days before in the motel would be a bittersweet memory to add to his pile of ‘never gunna happen’ right next to the ones of Lisa and Ben, next to the memories of his djinn life with his mother (before _that_ Sam had told him they didn’t get along).

He was trying to be patient but his fingers itches and his chest ached in a way that suggested maybe he was the one who actually broke a couple ribs.

“Sammy,” He had meant to just say his brother’s name but it came out a little broken and a little too rough to be normal.

Sam looked up at him, well not really at him his gaze seemed to be settled on the wall next to Dean’s head.

He sighed before taking a deep breath trying to steady his own emotions, “It needs to happen now.”

Sam’s face remained stoic and Dean couldn’t actually read what he was thinking, which bothered him immensely.

“I’ll do it,” Dean said, “You take your pain pills, breathe or whatever the docs wanted and take a nap. You look like shit.”

Dean knew he had to be the one to do this. Not that Sam couldn’t, he could probably hand her over with some bullshit story and a fake smile. But afterwards… it would just be better if Dean did it. Maybe not the same but he can still remember the haunted look on Sam’s face for months after he decided to be the one to kill Madison. Maybe this wasn’t as drastic as killing someone but he knew it would haunt his brother in the same way.

When Sam finally nodded, almost imperceptibly, Dean resigned himself to the fact that Sam would probably not be talking to him for the rest of the day, or week for that matter.

Dean’s heart broke when Sam pressed a kiss to Eden’s forehead and handed her to him. Without a word his brother turned and headed towards the bedrooms. He thought momentarily of the baby items in Sam’s room and wanted to warn his brother but he knew it was useless. Sam would go there anyway.

Instead Dean turned, Eden in his arms and made his way to the Impala.

Even though Eden was small it was still obvious she was too old for the Safe Haven laws, he’d looked them up in the hospital after seeing a sign about it. He had revised his previous plan after learning that. His new plan involved the police, a couple lies a fake name and being far enough away from home that when he went grocery shopping he wouldn’t be noticed.

He buckled Eden in and aimed the Impala north. He followed the highway as it drove out of Kansas into Nebraska and after about an hour he picked a back road and pulled off onto it. He opened the glove box and pulled out one of his burner phones and then climbed out of the car. At some point Eden had fallen asleep and was laying peacefully in her car seat, eyes flickering beneath her lids. Even when he lifted her from the seat she barely stirred, just turning into him and settling again.

Dean’s arms felt like lead as he held her, sitting on the back seat with his legs swung out. He needed to hide the infant seat, needed to wake her, needed to call the police and a hundred other things but he just couldn’t. So instead he sat there and watched her sleep.

There was no way the two of them could raise a child. He slowly began to list all the reason why not, only a little surprised when his conscience argued back. The inner voice that debated with him during his lifetime always sounded a lot like Sam. He assumed it was because Sam was pretty damn close to being his conscience but this time it was different; this time it was his own voice.

They were brothers, and while he had made peace with what they had it would be a hell of a thing to explain. _Those who need to know don’t care. Besides when have you ever given a shit about what other people think?_

There were legal reasons too. How would they register Eden for school? How would they take her to the doctor? _Sam and Dean Winchester are dead, at least twice in the eyes of the government. It wouldn’t be too hard to become someone new. Forging a birth certificate wouldn’t be the biggest crime you’ve committed._

He was a hunter and hunters with kids was just a shitty life choice. _Sam could stay home, be a man of letters like he was always meant to be anyway. He could take care of her and honestly you could stand to hunt a little less._

His lips twitched at the mental image of Sam as the stay at home wife.

The bunker wasn’t a place for children. It was the batcave, filled with thousands of exotic and dangerous items.   _You could build a home on the land- have your cake and eat it too_. _Give Sammy his picket fence life with a baby and still be a hunter._

Dean began toying with the burn phone in his free hand, flipping it open and closed with Eden still tucked up against him, blissfully unaware.

He took one look between the phone and the baby. He’d made up his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam held his composure together the whole afternoon while Dean watches him. He held it together kissing Eden goodbye. After he turned his back on Dean he barely made it back to his room, the one littered with baby items, before completely losing it. He’s angry and sad all at once. He wants to curl up in the corner with a bottle of whiskey and drink himself to sleep and he simultaneously wants to set fire to his room and destroy everything in it.

He did neither of those things, instead he sat on the edge of his bed staring into the empty pack and play. All of Eden’s things, with the exception of her carseat and a blanket, are in the room. He entertained the thought of simply picking up his few personal items and moving to another room. To just shut the door on this room and never open it again. It’s a macabre sort of funny that it would actually be easier and probably faster to just do that. He had never settled into this room the way Dean has in his own and Eden had only been there a few days and managed to claim the room as her own.

The first time he had ever considered children as even being a possibility for his future had been at Stanford. During his third date with Jess she had been no nonsense and asked him if he was dating for marriage or for fun. Part of why he had loved her so much was that she had no shame in being so straightforward with what she wanted. That was exactly why it had only been another two months before they started looking for an apartment together. He really had wanted to marry her and settle down as a lawyer with a handful of kids.

Back then children had been a possibility. Even with Amelia they had discussed children, one night after babysitting her receptionist’s son. Amelia was on the fence and Sam had been very surprised to find he was the one listing off all the pros of having children. She had agreed to keep an open mind and revisit the topic in a year. Only, two months later Don had shown up and that dream went up in another puff of smoke.

He’d let those dreams die when he chose Dean. He didn’t regret it and he didn’t resent Dean for it, not really, but he had never really mourned those dreams. Everything in his life had moved so fast paced he had never gotten the time to sit down and wave goodbye to those hopes and dreams.

That was probably why he had grown so attached to Eden. When her mother had died Eden had been left completely alone in the world. Had he not picked up on the case that wasn’t supposed to be a case she most likely would have wasted away in the cabin with no one left to look for her. Or Joel would have found her and she would have died either way. He’d felt like it was a little bit of fate that they’d found her, which he knew was stupid. The only “fate” the universe ever had in store for the Winchesters was bloody and terrible, which was exactly why Dean was right. Which was why he needed to be okay with their plan.

Except he wasn’t.

He was sitting in a room covered with half of Walmart’s baby section feeling completely distraught.

He couldn’t bring himself to pack away Eden’s things just yet so instead he decided to do what Dean had previously suggested. He pulled out his pill bottle and swallowed two dry. He did the breathing exercises, embracing the stretching pain in his lungs when he did. The breathing actually seemed to calm him as well, his tears began to subside. Either that or it was the medication because he was also becoming drowsy, ignoring the world and adult responsibilities in favor of a nap seemed like a good choice. So he grabbed the tiny blanket off of the pack and play and curled around it on the bed and drifted off.

Sam’s codeine enhanced dreams were about picking wildflowers with a little girl with bright red hair.

He woke with a start. Glancing at his phone he learned two things. One: that he had fallen asleep for two and a half hours. Two being that Dean had not called or texted him. He thought about texting Dean for half a second but decided against it, he didn’t want to know how it went.

His stomach was rolling. Right, he had taken pain killers on an empty stomach. Stupid.

As he walked to the kitchen he could hear Cas watching TV in the room the angel used as his own when he stuck around. There was no sign of Dean in the library or the kitchen, so he probably wasn’t back. The refrigerator was pretty much empty (there was a half drank bottle) except for some lunch meat. He made himself a sandwich and sat, back to the doorway, to eat.

 He was halfway through the sandwich when he heard Dean, his brother’s foot falls were a pattern burned into his brain since childhood. He paused, sandwich raised to his mouth, and waited for Dean to speak. For once he really didn’t want to talk about it and he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to start the conversation.

Dean cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention but he refused to turn.

“So I was thinking,” Dean began softly, “We should probably buy an actual crib.”

Sam spun so fast he cracked his knee off the table and his ribs ached.

Dean was standing in the doorway holding Eden.

“Dean-” Sam began but Dean cut him off.

“And we’re going to need to figure out how to get building permits for a house up top.”

Sam bit his lip wondering if he was hallucinating. There was no way Dean would be standing there with Eden talking like they were going to keep her.

“Dean,” Sam said again, “What are you talking about?”

Dean sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, “The kid’s going to need a real house, somewhere where the bus can pick her up when she starts school.”

“No Dean, what are you saying?” Sam said slowly, he needed to hear Dean say it.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we found her for a reason,” Dean began, “It doesn’t matter why. You deserve this, Sammy. I can’t give you a perfectly normal life but I can sure as hell give you this.”

Sam couldn’t breathe and for a moment he considered whether or not his other lung collapsed. “No Dean,” he managed out after a moment, “ _We_ deserve this, us together just like always.” He refrained from throwing himself at Dean, mostly because he was still holding the baby. _Their_ baby.

“Us. Well Sammy,” Dean began with a smirk, “Us just got a whole lot bigger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The final chapter for this work.   
> I have plans of turning this into a 'verse though so don't fret.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm such trash for Domestic!Winchesters. I just want them to be happy, damnit.


End file.
